


Strawberry Creams

by rainshaded



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, F/F, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Just to be safe, S04E03 Spoilers, background Hubblestar, yes I know it's an AU but still
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:13:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22569169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainshaded/pseuds/rainshaded
Summary: Ada runs a sweet shop. Hecate keeps visiting.
Relationships: Ada Cackle/Hecate Hardbroom
Comments: 56
Kudos: 69





	Strawberry Creams

**Author's Note:**

> In one of the Toad and Cass vids, a candy shop AU was mentioned. And apparently this is how I deal with my s04e03 feels, by writing an almost entirely unrelated piece of fluff.

The drawer was full of chocolate. Hecate poked around a bit, found no way to make space, frowned and closed it again. What was she to do with her latest acquisition? This was perhaps a hint, a wake up call for just how ridiculous her behaviour was.

It was Azura's fault, Hecate decided. True, her niece had never suggested, encouraged, demanded or held any awareness of Hecate’s actions but then if she hadn’t been desperately looking for a birthday present for her, none of this would have happened.

* * *

Azura was that awkward, in-between age that was impossible to buy for. Many things were too childish, according to her, and more were still too old, according to her mother.

Desperation drove Hecate from the office that first lunchtime. She appreciated the privacy and anonymity of online shopping, such as it was—oh, there were data profiles and suchlike but at least she didn’t have to _talk_ to anyone—but it only really worked if you already knew what you wanted. It was impossible to browse: there was just _too much_.

After a few fruitless evenings spent trying, she was running out of time. So, lunchtime at the shops it was. At least that gave it a strict time limit.

She ended up with a book, a story she was assured was going to be very popular with Azura's age range. First in a series so if she liked it, it might make this process a little less painful in future. It had an attractive cover, black with silver swirls. So that was one thing.

Time was ticking on, though. Hecate couldn’t bear the thought of this hanging over her for another day. She must be able to find something else. Clothes were right out: even if she guessed right with the style, she'd almost certainly get the size wrong. A voucher? It would give Azura the power to buy something of her own choosing but it did seem impersonal. Maybe a voucher and one more thing.

Which was how Hecate found herself pushing open the door to Cackle’s sweet shop. A bell jingled. It was an oddly charming sound.

“Just a minute!” came a muffled shout from somewhere towards the back.

Hecate’s first impression of the inside of the shop was that it looked like Christmas. It was shiny and colourful and, above all, _enthusiastic_. She was a woman of conservative tastes and a largely monochrome wardrobe but nevertheless the displays sang to her. She imagined bringing Azura and/or Indigo here (that sweet tooth was definitely inherited) and suppressed a smile at their imagined delight.

A figure bustled past her, arms piled high, as she inspected the shelves. “Do let me know if you need any help.”

Hecate managed a vague assenting noise, already deeply immersed in decision-making. The single-variety boxes were better value for money but would it be better to hedge her bets with a mixed box?

A glance at her watch decided her. A box of strawberry creams, fetchingly and appropriately tied up with cream ribbon printed with strawberries. Strawberry creams had long been a favourite of Azura’s. Hecate just hoped her tastebuds hadn’t matured beyond them already. Then again, Indigo’s never had.

She carried the box towards the counter. A woman with white-fair hair had her head bent over the task of creating cellophane flowers but looked up at Hecate’s approach.

Her eyes were startlingly blue.

“Afternoon!” Then her gaze flicked down to the box Hecate placed in front of her and back up as she broke into a breathtakingly beautiful, brilliant smile. “Oh, good choice! These are my favourites, you know,” she added confidingly.

Hurrying back to the office, Hecate had no idea what she’d said in response. Her mind replayed, on a loop, the brush of the woman’s fingers against her palm as she handed over her change.

Like an afterimage of the sun, she saw that smile every time she blinked.

* * *

To give herself credit, it was a while before Hecate went back. A week and three days, to be exact. She needed to post a letter and surely the shop was just around the corner. Azura had loved her chocolates and Indigo had seen Hecate off at the train station with a laughing command to “Make sure you get enough for us both next time!”

The shop was not just around the corner. At least not that corner.

It took most of Hecate’s lunch break before she stumbled on it again. A tiny irrational part of her brain had decided that it no longer existed, had been out of a fairy tale, had been magical, and she was determined to prove it wrong. But here it was, the window display now filled with cellophane flowers celebrating the spring that was starting to make itself felt.

The bell jingled as she pushed the door open. The lady from before was at the counter again, wearing a floral dress that complimented her displays. Something was beeping.

It was coming from her, Hecate realised. It was in her coat pocket. She plunged in a hand and pulled out Dimity Drill's watch. Clearly this was Dimity’s response to Hecate’s _absolutely warranted_ remarks on timekeeping and its importance in an effective work environment. The infernal thing kept beeping, louder and louder. Dimity would have known Hecate would have no idea how to shut it up. It would serve her right if Hecate threw it in a bin. Or the river wasn’t too far.

Hecate shoved it back in her pocket as far down as it would go and turned on her heel to storm back to the office, vowing retribution on the insufferable Drill.

She didn’t even know the woman’s _name_.

* * *

After that debacle, she really had no choice but to return. Such a ridiculous disturbance required an apology, if not an explanation. “ _My friend is a decade younger in years and a perpetual child in manner_ ” at least had the advantage of honesty.

The shop was busier after work. There were a couple of people already queuing at the counter. Hecate grabbed a box of strawberry creams and took her place in line, trying to think how to bring the subject up. She needn’t have worried.

As the person in front of her finished their transaction and moved off, the—shop owner’s?—face broke once more into that astonishing smile.

“You came back!”

Hecate nodded, momentarily speechless.

“Is everything all right? You seemed in quite a hurry early.”

“Yes,” Hecate managed. “It was my friend’s idea of a joke.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“I’m sorry to have disturbed you.”

“No need to apologise.” Her blue eyes shone with humour. “You wouldn’t believe what disturbances I’ve encountered in this old shop! Another box of strawberry creams? You are clearly a woman of fine taste.”

Her name badge said Ada. It suited her.

* * *

At first it was once a week on Friday lunchtimes. That was perfectly reasonable. One box of chocolates to start the weekend off well and last the week could hardly be considered excessive. Hecate put the untouched boxes away in the empty bottom drawer of her chest of drawers and told herself there would be plenty for both Azura and Indigo next time she saw them.

* * *

“Would you like to join our loyalty scheme?” Ada asked. “You get a free box for every ten boxes purchased and a free box for your birthday.”

Hecate nodded; Ada beamed. “Great! I’ll need your first name and birthday for the card.”

The card seemed to fill up remarkably quickly.

* * *

One week the shelf was bare of strawberry creams. Hecate stared at it. She supposed she could buy something else. But would Ada smile then? She was suddenly convinced she had been caught out, Ada _knew_ —

“Hecate!” And yet she didn’t sound accusatory.

Hecate turned and found herself facing Ada, bright as ever. Something in Hecate’s chest ached open.

“I’m afraid I’m having a little trouble with supplies. But I thought you would be coming in and I put this aside.” She held out a little Tupperware box for Hecate to take. It seemed to be filled with pink tissue paper. “I didn’t have enough at the end for another full box. But I hope it’s enough to tide you over! On the house.”

It was the plainest of all the boxes in the drawer. Hecate tucked it among them with reverent care.

* * *

The accumulation of boxes (now two to three a week) briefly halted when Hecate came down with a bug. Ignoring her protestations, Dimity put her under house arrest.

“No, just because you stopped throwing up does not mean you’re fine. If I see you at work tomorrow, I am bringing you back here. Are you feeling up to red pepper soup for dinner?”

It was a week and a half before Hecate made it back to Ada’s sweet shop.

“Hecate! How wonderful. I don’t mind telling you, the strawberry creams have seen a serious backlog without you around. Is everything all right?”

Hecate couldn’t bear to dim that smile at all. “Perfectly. I was on holiday.”

“Oh, lovely!”

The effort of recounting the time she went to Barcelona with any tell-tale chronological markers blurred out was worth it for hearing Ada’s stories of past holidays and dreams for ‘one day’.

* * *

“Is it just you here?” Hecate asked. She had never seen anyone else. It was a small shop but still, it seemed a daunting undertaking for one person.

“Mainly. I’ve a few lovely girls who do most evenings and weekends. Gives me a chance to catch up on the paperwork.” She rolled her eyes.

“Not a fan?”

“Not at all. If you’re ever passing by then, feel free to drop in. I would welcome the distraction.”

* * *

Look, she had meant to go up town that weekend _anyway_.

And even if she hadn’t, the afternoon spent hand-lettering the posters for Ada’s new window displays was worth the extra train fare.

* * *

And now Hecate found herself here. The drawer was probably big enough for Azura to curl up in—she had done just that during hide and seek when she was younger—and it was entirely full of chocolate, purportedly for her. It was enough chocolate for several decades of birthdays. Plus one.

Hecate weighed the leftover box in her hand. She could combine the contents of two other drawers into one and put this in the drawer thus cleared...

That would be ridiculous. She had plenty of storage space but she couldn’t give it all over to chocolate. It had to stop somewhere. They were meant as gifts, right?

* * *

“Hecate, why have you left a box of chocolates on my desk?”

“What makes you think it was me?”

Dimity rolled her eyes. “Because I came along, saw it, said ‘Where did this come from?’ and no fewer than three people told me you put it there. So I return to ‘why’?”

“Don’t people buy their friends chocolate?”

“Some people. Not you. You buy plants in an attempt to produce responsible habits and thus doom them to inevitable desiccation.”

“Maybe I’m grateful you looked after me when I was sick.” Hecate watched Dimity’s actions dispassionately. “The table-clutching is a bit much.”

Pantomime over, Dimity grinned. “Do you _like_ me, Hecate?”

“Don’t be _ridiculous._ ”

“Good, I was worried for a moment there.”

“What’s the problem?” Hecate distinctly remembered Dimity’s last birthday cake being chocolate. “Don’t you want chocolate?”

“Strawberry creams?” Dimity pursed her lips. “Not particularly. I prefer a nice chewy caramel. And I haven’t ruled out poison yet.”

“What about your Julie?”

“Ah, test the poison on her, you mean?”

Hecate raised an eyebrow. “It’s either poison or a chance for some good girlfriend points. Both could be of use.”

“I don’t believe your concern for my relationship is your true motivation.”

“Believe what you like.” Dimity did not move. “Haven’t you any work to be doing?”

“Other than my private detecting?”

“Away from here.”

* * *

“Hecate, I need a favour,” Dimity announced the next morning, popping up beside her desk.

“Have you brought me coffee?”

“No.”

“Then no.”

“Julie adored the strawberry creams. I tried one and, you know, it’s a strawberry cream but it’s still one of the best things I ever tasted. You have to tell me where you got them from.”

“No.”

Dimity blinked exaggeratedly sad eyes at her. “I hardly get good girlfriend points if I can’t repeat the feat.”

“Firstly, that is not my concern. Secondly, I didn’t say I wouldn’t give you more, just that I wouldn’t tell you where they’re from.”

“Why not?”

“ _Dimity Drill._ Is your portfolio ready for the meeting?”

“Aye aye, captain.” Dimity saluted and strolled back off to her desk.

* * *

“Hecate.” Ada pushed herself off the counter, landing with a slight thump, and hurried forward with plate in hand. “Just the person.”

“Ada?”

“I couldn’t sleep last night so I did a bit of experimenting. Let me know what you think?”

Hecate nodded then Ada was reaching forward and _oh_ such slight pressure of her fingers against her lips and her eyes closed automatically: the chocolate was dark and smooth against her tongue, the strawberry spiced with... cardamom?

Opening her eyes, Hecate found Ada very close. Her gaze flicked upwards from Hecate’s mouth.

“Is it good?”

Hecate swallowed. “It’s very good.”

Behind them, the bell jingled.

”Found you!” Dimity announced cheerily.

Hecate stepped back and turned. She could see the exact moment it occurred to Dimity what she had been interrupting. It was about five seconds before it really, truly occurred to Hecate.

“I’ll go. Right _now_.”

The silence after the bell stopped jingling seemed to stretch.

So. She was in love with Ada. And Ada liked her. Only Ada didn’t like _her_ ; she liked who Hecate had been pretending to be. She liked the woman who shared her love of strawberry creams and had been to Barcelona this year and was just passing by on weekends. She liked a lie.

“I assume that was Dimity?”

“Yes.”

“How did you meet?”

Hecate made herself turn round and face Ada. Honesty now. See it as a warm-up exercise. “We were at university together. There were... things and I didn’t go till I was almost thirty and there I was in halls with a bunch of eighteen-year-olds. Dimity was the brightest, loudest, most infuriating one of the lot. But she always went out of her way to include me, invited me to all the parties... maybe partly because she had that as a defence when I complained about the noise.”

Ada smiled. “I’m sure that wasn’t why.”

Ada’s eyes were so soft. They weren’t looking at her, not really. This couldn’t continue. Hecate took a deep breath, clenched her hands, forced herself to say it. “I’ve been lying to you.”

“Oh?” Such a quiet response. Ada’s head was tilted but she wasn’t even frowning, just listening.

“I don’t really like sweets. Especially strawberry creams. They’re not my favourite.”

Now Ada was frowning. “Are you smuggling secret supplies or...”

She couldn’t face this head-on. She wasn’t brave enough. Hecate stared at the floor.

“Hecate... have you been buying strawberry creams all this time because I said they were my favourite?”

“Yes,” Hecate admitted.

“But not eating them because you don’t actually like them.”

“No.” That was the unpalatable truth, out there at last. Her heart thumped, awaiting the blow: _if only, if only, if only_.

“Well,” Ada mused, “I’m sure I can find something you do like. Maybe a range of tasters for dessert?”

Hecate lifted her head. “Dessert?”

Ada was smiling again. “After dinner.”

“Ada?”

“Hecate. Of all the things anybody has ever lied to me about, I think that is the sweetest.” She winked. “Pun intended.” Stepping forward, bringing her close enough to look up at Hecate, she continued, “I’m not sure anybody has ever gone to such lengths to be in my company before.” Ada reached and took Hecate’s hand: Hecate gripped back, half-believing she would wake. “I would very much like it if you kissed me now. If you want to.”

“Oh,” Hecate breathed, “I do.”

And she did.


End file.
